


i love you (but i hate your friends)

by grapefruitblue



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-18 02:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14843966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapefruitblue/pseuds/grapefruitblue
Summary: They were people who Lu Dinghao liked to call "the fuerdai fucks." They came to this school from China with no intention of studying and every intention of living their best lives. And living their their best lives entailed walking around school in outfits that cost more than their tuition, driving the 20 minute walk from the dorms to campus in their Maseratis, and spending weekends (and weekdays) at bars and clubs engaging in debauchery.Alternative summary: Some rich Chinese fuckboys and some scholarship students meet and learn how to tolerate each other (and maybe find love along the way).





	1. gucci gang, spent ten racks on a new (balenciaga outfit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Inspired by @shuibinyue on Twitter/@mangguobing on AO3, who tweeted about an IP!Gossip Girl AU. Instead of all the snakey drama of Gossip Girl, my imagination somehow turned the idea into a soft rich kid fic. Hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> \- This chapter was kindly beta'ed by @shuibinyue, @softyeonstan and @ahjingchin! :) Thank you for all of your help!!

**chapter 1 // gucci gang, spent ten racks on a new (balenciaga outfit)**

 

Zhengting switches his phone off airplane mode as soon as plane touches ground at LAX. Immediately, 6 messages flood in.

“GEGEEEE ARE YOU BACK YET :) :) :)”

“Gege come back please Justin won’t stop whining”

"Ge wya??? Yanchen is mad at me and I don’t know why sos??”

“Gege… they’re bullying me again :’(“

“GEGE NO ONE WILL WATCH THE NEW MINIONS MOVIE WITH ME COME BACK SO WE CAN GO”

“Hey, ge. The others made me send this text. Come back safely, I guess”

Zhengting snorts. These fools. He sends one single message in response to all of them into their group chat:

“I’m back, my children.”

 

 

 

 

 

Dinghao slams open the door to Chaoze’s and Zhangjing’s room, stomps in, and plops himself face first onto their floor.

“Someone tell me why I have to room with Xiao Gui, out of all people,” he wails.

“Because you’re a dumbass who forgot to fill in the housing form, so they randomly put you with another dumbass who did the same thing?” Chaoze replies without missing a beat, folding his clothes into his dresser.

Zhangjing shrugs from his bed and puts another potato chip into his mouth. “You’ll live.”

“I’ll _LIVE_?? You think I’ll survive this year rooming with one of the richest, most pretentious Hypebeast fuckboys at this school?” Dinghao rolls over to face Zhangjing with an incredulous look on his face.

“Xiao Gui’s family is probably rich enough to buy my entire existence, ten times over. I don’t want to deal with a fuerdai who doesn’t know how to do anything but buy 5,000 dollar sneakers and wear Peppa Pig satchels. He won’t do _any_ of the cleaning.”

Xiao Gui is part of a group of people at the university that Dinghao and his friends liked to call “the fuerdai fucks.” They came to this school from China with no intention of studying and every intention of living their best lives. And living their their best lives entails walking around school in outfits that cost more than their tuition, driving the 20 minute walk from the dorms to campus in their Maseratis, and spending weekends (and weekdays) at bars and clubs engaging in debauchery.

Dinghao, Zhangjing, and Chaoze, on the other hand, are students from China on academic scholarships with every intention of studying hard and getting an H-1 visa after graduation. To them, these fuerdais ruin the image of Chinese international students and perpetuate the stereotype that all of them were here to play. As a result, none of the domestic kids take them seriously and usually are thoroughly shocked to find out that the three of them were honor students.

“You know, for a person who says that he can’t stand Xiao Gui and the rest of the fuerdai fucks, you sure do pay a lot of attention to their fashion choices,” Zhangjing remarks, dusting potato chip flakes onto the floor. 

Dinghao glares at him. “Says the person who has had a one-sided crush on the most fuerdai fuck out of all the fuerdai fucks for the past two years.”

Zhangjing winces. “That was a low blow, Dinghao. And you know that’s not true. The most fuerdai fuck of them all is obviously Wang Ziyi.”

“Seriously, Zhangjing. When are you ever gonna get this ball rolling? You know you need to push first to get the momentum going,” Chaoze turns around from his unpacking to cross his arms and look at Zhangjing disapprovingly.

“Chill out, Physics major. He doesn’t even swing, okay? Let me live this typical gay storyline of pining after a rich straight boy in peace.”

Chaoze sighs and walked over to Zhangjing, placing his hands on his shoulders and shaking him angrily. “For the umpteenth time, nobody knows for sure if he’s straight! Get that into that small tiny brain of yours, won’t you!”

“He’s right. Out of all of them, Yanjun has the most gay potential. Besides Wang Ziyi, of course,” Dinghao adds.

“How the heck do you even know? He’s spotted with hot girls all the fucking time,” Zhangjing retorts bitterly.

“I get around,” Dinghao shrugs. As much as Dinghao complains about the fuerdai fucks, he also survives off of gossip. If there were anybody who had the potential to know literally everything about everyone at school, it would be Lu Dinghao.

“You know what, let’s just go to the club this weekend,” Chaoze proposes, one hand still on Zhangjing’s shoulder.

“What the fuck? The semester just started; you think I’ve got that type of money?” Zhangjing pushes the hand off and plops back onto his bed, grabbing his potato chips.

Chaoze gave him a look. “Zhangjing, you spent the entire summer working a full-time job at a research lab that paid 30 dollars an hour. You have the money for one night out.”

“Okay, but why would we go? To see Yanjun?” Zhangjing snorts.

Dinghao rolls his eyes. “Yes, genius, congrats. That’s exactly why we’re going.” 

“Saying no isn’t an option, Zhangjing. You didn’t go out the entirety of last semester and watched the Food Network with all of your free time,” Chaoze turns back around to continue folding his clothes.

Zhangjing reaches into his bag of potato chips, finds that it’s empty, and groans.

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey bro, welcome back,” Ziyi looks up from the Garageband on his laptop.

“Bro, did you get new kicks?” Yanjun steps inside his room, pausing to admire the new sneakers at the door.

“You bet he did, they’re the limited edition ones too,” Xiao Gui interjects from the floor.  

“You didn’t have to tell me that, does this dude buy anything that isn’t only available in single digit quantities?”

“Uh, yeah, his Macbook,” Jeffrey replies from his bed, in defense of his roommate.

“He literally got that custom-designed to have it say ‘BOOGIE’ on the front,” Yanjun deadpans.

“Enough about me, how are the rooming situations this year for you all?” Ziyi turns to face Xiao Gui and Yanjun.

“I don’t know bro, I walked in and this dude was already there unpacking his stuff. I said ‘hey,’ but as soon as he saw me his face turned pastier than it already was and he ran straight out of the room.”

“Weird, bro,” Ziyi remarks.

“Maybe he likes you,” Jeffrey suggests.

“Well, I’m rooming with Linong again. I actually can’t survive without that boy,” Yanjun says, pointedly ignoring Jeffrey’s dumb comment.

“That’s chill. Is he coming with us to the club this weekend?” Xiao Gui asks, also ignoring Jeffrey’s dumb comment.

“He gave me his typical judgemental look but said he’d tag along this time,” Yanjun replies.

“Uh, about that, I don’t think I can make it this weekend,” Ziyi grimaces, looking thoroughly apologetic.

“What? Why? Bro, you were the one who brought this up!” Xiao Gui protests, finally looking up from his gold-infused fidget spinner.

Ziyi sighs. “My dad is making me do business stuff again. He wants me to meet with another CEO. Something about needing to invest in the new technological trends.”

“Ugh, what better way to spend a Saturday evening than talking business with old white men,” Yanjun sympathizes.

“I know, bro. And get this: my dad wants me to buy out his startup, which is creating a virtual reality dating game. How old and sad do you have to be to want to make that type of stuff,” Ziyi scoffs, turning back to his Garageband.

“Are all CEOs old and ugly? Maybe this one will be young and cute,” Jeffrey offers.

No one answers him.

 

 

 

 

 

Xukun is nervous. Really nervous. He paces around the floor, reciting his pitch over and over again.

“Cai Xukun, learn to chill a little. You look more nervous than when you confessed to me in mid-quad as a freshman.” Zhengting was lying on Zhenghao’s bed (not Xukun’s, because he would actually slaughter Zhengting if he did that), watching Xukun’s mini breakdown.

“Fuck you, I don’t ever want to remember that time again, thank you very much,” Xukun retorts, continuing to recite.

“Why not?” Zhengting pouts, coming over to Xukun to latch himself onto him like a koala. “Our time together was happy!”

“Zhengting-ge, can you be serious for once and let me concentrate? This meeting could decide my entire future, I want to do well,” Xukun gives Zhengting an exasperated look, gingerly removing himself from Zhengting’s arms.

Cai Xukun was also what people would deem a fuerdai, but he wasn’t a “fuerdai fuck.” His father had met another woman when Xukun was five, divorced his mother, and only sent back annual funds from the settlement. His mother, heartbroken, immersed herself into her work and began leaving Xukun at home alone with his nanny in a huge house, only coming back to hand Xukun more money. When Xukun was old enough to have a credit card, his mother stopped coming back all together. It also didn’t help that the one time she did come back when he was seventeen, she walked into Xukun kissing another boy in his room.

When he applied for college, he made sure to apply to the farthest choices possible to escape from a place that never felt like home. Unlike the other rich kids, he had a drive that stemmed from an overwhelming urge to detach himself financially from his mother. He wanted to be able to continue living his comfortable life, but only with his own money. As such, when he matriculated, he immediately chose the most profitable major, computer science, with the currently most profitable focus, virtual reality, and never looked back.

“Seriously though, Xukun, if anyone would be fine, it’s you, Mr. 4.0 GPA With His Own Startup At Age 21,” Zhengting retracts his arms, expression suddenly turning serious. “Wang Technologies and Softwares has already expressed enough interest in your product. And who knows? Maybe Wang Ziyi will be the one to meet with you, then you can sell both your product and your bod-”

Xukun cuts Zhengting off, muffling his shouts with his hand. “Zhengting-ge, you talk way too much. I wish you found a sugar daddy in Amsterdam and never came back, honestly.”

“It’s not like I even need one,” Zhengting retorts. “All I’m saying is, Cai Xukun, you’ve had enough of a dry spell. It’s time for your pretty face to get the action it deserves,” Zhengting shrugs, diving back into Zhenghao’s bed. “Plus, Wang Ziyi’s hella hot and a confirmed homo,” he adds.

Xukun sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “First of all, there’s no way that spoiled rich brat Wang Ziyi would show up to a business meeting on a Saturday evening. Second of all, just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean he’s not a douche.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you think he’s attractive.” Zhengting wiggles his eyebrows.

 Xukun throws his notebook into Zhengting’s face.

 

 

 

 

 

Xukun looks around the bar from the private table that he was sitting at. The only people here are rich old Asian men, and the hostess at the door had looked Cai Xukun up and down when he gave her his name, probably thinking that he was a prostitute. Unsurprising that Wang Tech would choose only the most expensive and fancy bar in Arcadia. He looks at his watch. 9:18 PM. The other party was 18 minutes late already.

At 9:26, a man taps his shoulder. “Hi, sorry I’m late. And you are?” Cai Xukun looks up and sees Wang Ziyi, with no sign of sweat, urgency, or regret on his face. _Damn you and your foresight, Zhu Zhengting_.

“I’m… Cai Xukun?” Xukun gets up to shake his hand, confused that Wang Ziyi doesn’t even know the name of the person he’s negotiating with. He was also a little surprised that Ziyi didn’t recognize him, because not to be full of himself, but Xukun was quite well-known at school.

“Right, right, sorry about that. Let’s have a seat,” Wang Ziyi waves his hand and doesn’t even look the least bit apologetic.

“So, we’re here to talk about your… online dating thing? I have to admit, I didn’t expect to be meeting such a young guy like you today,” Ziyi looks Xukun up and down with his legs crossed in that power move that all those rich fucks do.

“It’s actually a virtual reality dating simulation,” Xukun corrects, ignoring Ziyi’s second comment. “I have to say, Mr. Wang, that I’m a bit taken aback that you are not familiar with the product that your company wishes to invest in.”

“I’m not usually in charge of this stuff. Honestly speaking, my dad made me come here today,” Ziyi says nonchalantly, picking at his nails.

Xukun’s eye twitches. “Then, Mr. Wang, are you interested in learning more about my product-”

“Just Ziyi is fine. We look the same age, anyway.” Ziyi suddenly leans forward closer to Xukun, studying his face. “Actually, do you go to my school? You look really familiar.”

“Alright, Wang Ziyi, then. I’m here to further our negotiations of your company’s proposal to invest in my product, Wanna Get Love, so if we could get started-”

"What’s the rush? Our drinks aren’t even here yet. Let’s get to know each other a bit first,” Ziyi sits back again, smirking.

Xukun grits his teeth. It’s going to be a long night.

 

 

 

 

 

“Why are we here again?” Zhangjing asks Dinghao as they both nurse a cocktail, watching Chaoze already attracting looks with his wild samba.

“EYES ON THE PRIZE, ZHANGJING! EYES ON THE PRIZE,” Chaoze stumbles over suddenly, grabs onto Zhangjing’s shoulders and yells in his face.

Zhangjing grimaces at the strong scent of vodka in his breath. “Damn you, Chaoze, why do you have to be such a fucking lightweight.”

“Hey! Is that You Zhangjing and Lu Dinghao? Didn’t think I’d see you guys here!” A voice shouts at them, and Zhangjing looks into the crowd to see a tall figure weaving towards them with that signature smile on his face.

“Chen Linong! It’s been so long! How are you?” Zhangjing throws Chaoze off him and runs towards Linong, hugging him tight.

Chen Linong was a scholarship student, just like them, and shared the same passion for singing that Dinghao and Zhangjing did, which is what made them bond easily. However, Chen Linong also rooms with Yanjun, so he hangs out with the “fuerdai fuck” crowd more often. Due to Linong’s kind, forgiving, bright, and literally perfect personality, he is probably the only person not part of the rich crowd who is actually able to tolerate them. Zhangjing had unfortunately found out during the first week of classes freshman year that Linong roomed with Yanjun when the latter walked out of the shower shirtless while he was there, kickstarting Zhangjing’s downward spiral.

“I’ve been fine,” Linong replies, picking Zhangjing up like the giant he is and spinning him around. “I’m actually here with a couple of my friends too. Do you want to join us?”

Zhangjing freezes. “A couple of my friends” is code for… Lin Yanjun and the fuerdai fucks.

“Of course, we would love to!” Lu Dinghao cuts in immediately, putting on the most sinisterly bright smile that Zhangjing has ever seen him make. Chaoze’s grin is no better, and he nudges Zhangjing a little bit too hard on the shoulder.

“Great, let’s go then!” Linong grabs Zhangjing’s shoulders and pushes him towards the crowd. _Fuck_.

 

 

 

 

 

Linong leads the three of them further, and further, and further into the club until they reach a secluded area. There, Yanjun, Xiao Gui, and Jeffrey are sitting around a private table with empty glasses scattered all over. Zhangjing’s eyes fall on Yanjun immediately. The boy is wearing a simple white tanktop, black skinny jeans, and shoes that are somehow still completely white in the sweaty club. He looks over and beams at Linong, and Zhangjing’s breath catches when he sees his dimple.

“Hey! My boy Linong!” Yanjun, eyes half glazed over, stumbles over to Linong and crushes him in a hug.

“Oh my god is that Xiao Gui-”

“Oh! You’re my roommate, right? Bro, it’s good to finally meet you!” Xiao Gui sticks out his hand. Dinghao reaches for it gingerly, only to be pulled into a massive bro-hug. He cringes.

“Who are these people, Linong?” Yanjun slurs.

“Yanjun, I told you not to drink so much,” Linong scolded, placing Yanjun back down carefully on the seat and handing him some water. “These are my friends from vocal class, Zhangjing and Dinghao, and their friend Chaoze.”“Nice to _finally_ meet you, Lin Yanjun,” Chaoze exclaims, sloppily shaking Yanjun’s hand. Linong raises an eyebrow. Zhangjing, knowing his friend has zero ability to keep secrets when he’s drunk, pushes Chaoze away in an attempt to save the little dignity that he has left.

“Sorry, he’s a little drunk, if you can’t tell,” Zhangjing says, sitting down carefully next to Yanjun and putting on the warmest smile his panicking self could muster. “I’m You Zhangjing.”

“I know, Linong talks about you a lot.” Yanjun makes direct eye contact with Zhangjing, lips pulling up in a smirk. Zhangjing stops breathing, so he doesn’t hear what Yanjun says to him next.

“Sorry, what? The music is too loud!”

At this, Yanjun scoots himself until his bare arm brushes up against Zhangjing’s. He cups his hand around Zhangjing’s ear. “I asked if you were also a junior?” He shouts a bit too loudly.

Zhangjing probably replies something completely incoherent, because all Yanjun does is throw his head back and laugh. Zhangjing can’t stop himself from staring at the sheen of sweat on Yanjun’s neck, the way his soft hair falls back, and those dimples that appear on his face again.

“You should loosen up a bit, drink this.” Yanjun shoves a glass of mysterious alcohol into Zhangjing’s hands. The places where their fingers brush feel like fire on Zhangjing’s hands.

“Oh,” Zhangjing mumbles, mentally kicking himself for his stupidity.

An hour later, Yanjun is falling asleep on the sofa, head resting softly on Zhangjing’s shoulder, and all Zhangjing can think about is that he’s most definitely, certainly, 100% not drunk enough for this. Before his face can combust from the heat, Linong stands up and coaxes Yanjun off of Zhangjing.

“Yanjun, you need to get home.” Yanjun mumbles something incoherent. Linong sighs.

“Hey Zhangjing, could you possibly take Yanjun back to our room first? I would go, but these two blockheads want to stay here for a bit longer, so I have to watch after them. Also, you’re the only other one sober enough,” Linong pulls his puppy face, but if Zhangjing was being completely honest with himself, Linong didn’t even have to do that for him to agree.

“Uh yeah, sure, no problem,” Zhangjing says.

“I owe you one!” Linong beams at Zhangjing. He sighs.

 

 

 

 

 

The Uber ride back is relatively silent. Yanjun is staring out the window, half-conscious, and Zhangjing is sitting there fidgeting his thumbs like an idiot, probably.

“Why do I live like this?” Yanjun suddenly blurts out. _Oh no_.

“What do you mean?”

Yanjun turns towards Zhangjing, eyes teary. “It’s just that… I feel like these last two years are all that I have left, you know? Before I have to go back to Taiwan and inherit my dad’s company for some money, marry some random girl for some more money, and have a family for even more money.”

Yanjun blinks, and tears fall from his face. He wipes them away quickly. “I don’t feel like I have any real purpose in life, and my only true form of happiness comes from keeping my white sneakers completely clean because it’s the only thing I have actual control over.”

Yanjun looks away, back out the window. “Sorry for putting this on you; you don’t have to say anything.”

Zhangjing’s heart shatters. “Don’t be sorry. If it makes you feel any better, everything I own gets dirty in literally two seconds, so you’re pretty amazing,” Zhangjing says as he silently puts a tissue in Yanjun’s hand.

Yanjun’s hand curls around the tissue, and he sniffles. Zhangjing can see a shadow of a smile on his face.  
  
After dropping Yanjun off at his dorm, Zhangjing leans on the door and slides down into a squat, burying his head in his knees. _Fuck you, Lin Chaoze._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This story takes place in Arcadia, a city in San Gabriel Valley (colloquially known as SGV) right outside of Los Angeles. It's famous for hosting a large number of rich Chinese people and is known as the "Chinese Beverley Hills." 
> 
> \- Fuerdai translates to "rich second-generation," referring to Chinese kids who are born with a silver spoon.
> 
> \- Title is a reference to the Neon Trees song. Sorry not sorry for my music taste
> 
> \- Follow @yxnjuns on Twitter for updates! [:


	2. i have a mansion in arcadia, baby boy what’s happenin’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This chapter was beta'd and emotionally supported by the amazing @mangguobing (AO3) / @shuibinyue (twt) and @mangostickyrice (AO3) / @ultsyanjun (twt)! Check out their works on AO3; they're amazing uwu

**chapter 2 // i have a mansion in arcadia, baby boy what’s happenin’**

 

 “Zhu Zhengting, I have a bone to pick with you,” Xukun sits down angrily at their designated table in a very crowded Half & Half Tea.

Zhengting shrugs and takes a sip from his drink. “Unless it’s the bones from my grandma’s steamed fish, then no thanks.”

“I hope you choke on a boba.”

“Haha, too bad, because I’m on a diet for my next dance performance and haven’t had boba in two months.” Zhengting sticks out his tongue.

“Kids, kids, let’s settle down, shall we?” Justin sticks his head in between the two of them, swishing his head back and forth until Zhengting reaches his hands out and forces Justin back into his seat.

“Yeah, we only do this once a month, can we at least act like we’re friends?” Chengcheng scrolls aimlessly through Kermit memes on Twitter.

“Wait, Chengcheng, we’re not friends?” Justin looks crestfallen.

Chengcheng glances over from his phone. “Not with taro milk tea all over your mouth, no.” Justin scrambles over Zhengting to grab napkins from the dispenser.

Xukun scoffs. “If only Zhengting-ge had _told_ me that he knew Wang Ziyi was gonna be there-”

“Hold up, you’re shitting me, he was actually there?”

“Yeah, we didn’t actually talk about any business. Or more like, he didn’t let me. The dude asked me for my pitch, but after I finished, he just asked me if I wanted to go clubbing with him. I tried to talk about my product again, but he just made me give him my number so we could ‘talk more about this later,’ and then he left. I had to contact the company again to meet with someone else and get the negotiations going. Oh, and he also hasn’t stopped texting me since,” Xukun says all of this in one breath, huffs angrily, and grabs Justin’s drink to take a large sip.

“What? Kunkun, I can’t believe you had a boy and didn’t tell us,” Justin pouts.

“That’s not the point,” Xukun hisses. “You’re not going to ask about my business? How my negotiations went? Do you care about your friend’s wellbeing at all?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up, what’s even happening?” Chengcheng suddenly looks up from his phone.

“Cai Xukun just snatched up the most eligible bachelor at this university, that’s what,” Zhengting supplies helpfully.

“Shut up, more like most eligible useless fuckboy. And who said I wanted this to happen? I hope his Balenciaga shoes get run through the mud and someone shaves all of his dumb floppy hair off.”

Chengcheng whistles. “Damn, slow down there Satan. Balenciaga doesn’t deserve to be slandered like that. What has he been texting you?”

Xukun pulls up the chats, places his phone in the middle of the table, and puts his head down and groans.

 

Wang Ziyi: Wanna grab some lunch tday? We could talk abt ur product

Wang Ziyi: And other things…

Cai Xukun: Since our last meeting was unproductive, I already settled the deal with one of your father’s secretaries.

Cai Xukun: And I’m busy.

Wang Ziyi: :’(

 

Wang Ziyi: Hey u up?

Cai Xukun: No

Wang Ziyi: :’(

 

Justin laughs so hard he chokes on a piece of taro. “I can’t believe he literally booty called you,” he manages to wheeze out.

“Of course he would, he’s Wang Ziyi. Did you expect anything else?” Chengcheng rolls his eyes as he slaps Justin on the back a little too hard.

“Yeah, for him to be a decent fucking human being,” Xukun hisses, snatching his phone back.

“I think you’re assuming too much, Kunkun. I know him personally. He may seem super full of himself, but he’s actually just a soft sheltered rich kid who doesn’t know how to interact with regular people.” Zhengting pats Xukun’s hand reassuringly.

“Ge, you’re optimistic and forgiving enough to take care of and literally baby six freshmen,” Xukun deadpans.

“Hey!”

“Also, how in the heck do you know every single person on campus?” Xukun asks, ignoring Justin’s protests.

“I don’t know, perks of coming from a family that runs the largest candy and dessert business in China?” Chengcheng shrugs.

“....Touché,” Xukun mumbles.

“But really, Kunkun, as I always say, if you don’t think he’s hot, then let it drop. Just have a meal with him once and tell him that,” Zhengting says.

Xukun runs his hand through his hair. “It’s not that-”

“What is this I hear? Hesitation?” Justin cups his hand around his ear, leaning towards Xukun obnoxiously.

Xukun swats Justin out of his immediate view. “No, you’re right, ge. It’s for the best. I’ll talk to him soon.” His number is called for his drink, and Xukun sighs as he gets up to retrieve it.

Zhengting, Justin, and Chengcheng look at each other. “Looks like our little boy Kunkun has a little crush,” Justin singsongs.

“Justin, you’re like twelve,” Chengcheng goes back to scrolling on his phone as Justin hands him a well-deserved punch in the shoulder.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Zhangjing is running late on the first day of class, all because Lin Chaoze had convinced him to watch Gossip Girl until 4 AM with him by saying that it would improve their English. This morning, he doesn’t feel any better at English, but he does feel dead inside. He kicks Chaoze on the way out to wake him up, slams the door just in time to avoid a flying pillow coming his way. He runs into the lecture hall at 9:57 AM and thanks the heavens that there is still an empty table. Zhangjing is usually a pretty social person, but not today. Not after almost pulling an all-nighter to binge-watch trashy teen dramas and ingesting three pounds of cheese crackers.

The professor walks in at ten on the dot. Zhangjing is surprised that no one has sat next to him, seeing as this class was supposed to be completely full.

At 10:15, as the professor is passing out the syllabus, the heavy door opens with a terribly loud squeak. A boy walks in wearing an unnecessary fedora that doesn’t do much to hide his bright silver hair, a thin blue sweater, loose jeans, and sunglasses that he doesn’t bother to take off as he bows slightly to the teacher in apology. He doesn’t seem the least bit sorry though;  Zhangjing watches as he strolls casually across the classroom with a java chip Starbucks frap in his hand and Airpods in his ears to the only empty seat left right beside him.

Zhangjing would recognize that confident walk, silver hair, and ugly slippers anywhere. The guy takes off his sunglasses and earphones as he settles in his seat and of course, it’s Lin Yanjun. Zhangjing, despite having that knowledge, still nearly has a heart attack.

“Hey, sorry, can I share the syllabus with you?” Yanjun looks over to Zhangjing and cracks a small smile.

“S-sure,” Zhangjing stutters, robotically pushing the piece of paper between them. _Does he not remember me or what happened on Saturday? But he said he knew me-_ Zhangjing’s mind is too busy catching up on everything that is happening to properly process that their fingers brush slightly when Yanjun reaches over to adjust the syllabus so he can see it better. Zhangjing instinctively jerks back his hand out of panic, and Yanjun looks at him oddly, but then turns to focus his attention back on the professor. When he’s sure Yanjun is looking away, Zhangjing immediately whips out his phone.

 

You Zhangjing: Pls help me send help sos sos 911

extra bitch: no fck u for waking me up this morning i dont have class, u hoe

nongfu’s sugar baby: wht now drama queen

You Zhangjing: LIN FUCKIN YANJUN is sittin NeXt To ME in B I  O C H EM

You Zhangjing: WHY IS HE HERE

extra bitch: ...he’s a mo-bio major

extra bitch: his family runs a freakin bioinformatics conglomerate

extra bitch: u shouldve expected this dumbass

nongfu’s sugar baby: L M F A O

You Zhangjing: Fuck y’all

 

“Zhangjing, would you like to answer this one?” The professor snaps Zhangjing out of his fury, which, in hindsight, seemed pretty obvious through his furrowed eyebrows aimed at his crotch and angry screen-tapping.

“Uh…” Zhangjing has a mini breakdown. He can’t lose participation on the first day of class, he needs to maintain his 3.8 GPA-

There’s a small tap on the leg that he’s bouncing out of anxiety. Zhangjing glances to his right, and he can see Yanjun’s other hand tapping on the syllabus. His eyes fly down, and he sees something scrawled onto the bottom of the paper.

“You should... flush your skin with water for 20 minutes?”

“Correct. Next question,” The professor moves on, and Zhangjing finally starts breathing again.

“Thanks,” Zhangjing mumbles towards the front without looking at Yanjun. He’s too embarrassed to face that unfairly handsome face right now.

“No problem, hope you got your crisis settled,” Yanjun whispers back. Zhangjing’s eyes widen, and his head whips around to look at him. He regrets it, because Yanjun is smirking back at him, twirling a pen in his hand.

“Wha- Did you- did you read my texts?” Zhangjing’s face begins flushing. This is the end of him. He might as well write his will now on the back of this stupid syllabus-

“No, chill, it’s just because you were typing pretty furiously, that’s why,” Yanjun shrugs and turns his attention back to the professor again. Zhangjing wants to cry.

“Alright, today is syllabus day, so I’ll let you go early. The person you are sitting with is your lab partner for the next semester, so get to know them well.” Zhangjing wants to scream.

“I’m Lin Yanjun, by the way,” Yanjun says while slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Look forward to working with you.” He shoots one last smile at Zhangjing, and then he’s gone.

Zhangjing, still shook that Yanjun took the initiative to _give him his name_ , looks down to pick up the rest of the stuff and sees the syllabus still lying on the table. On it, there’s something else written beneath the answer to the question:

“微信 evanlin888 :)”

Zhangjing wants to die.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Guys, guess what,” Yanjun asks as he sits down at the table at Haidilao. Yes, the fuerdai fucks are at Haidilao on a Monday.

“There’s a minuscule dot of dirt on your white shoes?” Wang Ziyi deadpans while entering four servings of New Zealand lamb meat onto the ordering iPad.

“You showered until there was no more hot water again?” Chen Linong provides without looking up from his textbook that he’s trying to study.

“You had a bad day?” Jeffrey asks, his eyes full of pity.

“You finally had your gay awakening?” Xiao Gui offers nonchalantly while scrolling through the Supreme website on his phone.

“What? Fuck you all, except Jeffrey,” Yanjun grabs the iPad angrily from Ziyi and spams the pork belly button. “I was going to say that I met that kid from the club again and had to sit next to him in Chem. Zhangjing?”

“Oh, so I was right,” Xiao Gui interjects. Chen Linong gives him a high-five.

“What I’m trying to say is I think I played it off pretty well. I pretended I didn’t know him and he didn’t bring it up,” Yanjun finishes, ignoring Xiao Gui’s comment.

“My boy is playing hard to get I see,” Xiao Gui teases.

“I just don’t want him to spread what I said to him last weekend and ruin my reputation at school,” Yanjun adds, ignoring Xiao Gui’s comment again.

“What reputation? The one of you being the fuckiest fuckboy out there who only hooks up with hot Chinese women? Or the one of you almost failing Intro Chem and having to get your dad to pull strings?” Chen Linong says without looking up from the iPad.

“Whoa whoa whoa, let’s back off on the burns today, Linong,” Ziyi says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re trying to be helpful to our poor little Yanjun here.”

“Who’s paying for your food again?” Yanjun reminds Linong.

“I meant, the reputation that you’re an amazingly handsome, generous, kind, and funny person!” Linong looks up at Yanjun and bats his eyelashes. Xiao Gui gags.

Yanjun throws a mini heart in Linong’s direction. Xiao Gui gags even more. “Anyways, Linong said he’s an honor student? And I need all the help I can get passing Biochem this semester, so I gave him my Wechat… hopefully I can bribe him into keeping silent and helping me out.”

“Sounds like the start of a gay love story.”

“Wang Ziyi, not you too,” Yanjun groans.

Xiao Gui punches Ziyi in the shoulder. “Yeah, you’re the one to talk. Who’s the one desperately trying to get with our school’s pretty boy?”

“That’s a different story,” Ziyi sighs. “He’s not being responsive. I tried to ask him if he was awake so I could take him out for some late night dessert, but he said no! He replied to my text, but he said he wasn’t awake!”

“Yeah, I thought it was rude of Xukun to refuse like that,” Jeffrey interjects, patting Ziyi on the head to comfort him.

“That’s because you fucking texted him ‘u up,’ bro. That’s literally a booty call,” Linong deadpans.

“It all worked out though, because he asked me to meet up with him tomorrow!” Ziyi happily places more meat on Linong’s plate.

Yanjun tsks. “He initiated it? That can’t be good…”

“Yeah, means he wants outtie,” Xiao Gui slices his neck to get his point across.

“What? Ziyi has an outtie!” Jeffrey comments, clearly missing the point.

Xiao Gui, Linong, and Yanjun groan. Ziyi pats a very confused Jeffrey softly on the head.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Xukun has been waiting for fifteen minutes. Again. This seems to be a pattern, though he’d expect nothing more from Wang Ziyi. He shakes his leg so hard in annoyance that the table moves, and the people sitting next to him shoot him weird looks.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, got held up during my dance class.” Xukun looks up and sees Ziyi looking down at him again, feeling a sense of deja vu. This time, though, he’s dressed in a simple (Louis Vuitton) white t-shirt and jeans, looking a little bit more breathless from running and less douchey, which Xukun acknowledges as an improvement. He also can’t help but dwell on the fact that Ziyi dances too. How come he’s never seen him around in the practice rooms?

“No worries, I just got here too,” Xukun lies smoothly. He didn’t want to be burning bridges so soon, not quite yet.

The two of them sit silently for a while after Ziyi places his order.

“So-”

“I-”

“You go first,” Ziyi offers.

Xukun groans internally. _This isn’t a goddamn gay romance movie, Wang Ziyi._ But he still finds himself saying, “No, go ahead.”

Ziyi’s expression suddenly sobers. He looks at Xukun directly in the eyes as he says, “I just wanted to apologize… for last time. I know that I may have come off a little bit rude; I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

Xukun tries really hard not to laugh. His apology sounded like that of a five year old. But as he studies Ziyi’s reddening face and sad, light brown eyes, Xukun realizes that the boy was being serious. _Fuck you, Zheng-_

“S-so, if it’s alright, do you mind telling me a bit more about your product? I didn’t really get to know much about it, and I don’t know much about VR, but it seems pretty cool,” Ziyi rushes the rest of his words and breaks eye contact with Xukun to swirl his straw in his drink. It’s kind of … cute. Xukun gets lost in the way Ziyi’s fingers look holding that straw, the way his other hand grasps the drink nervously, the way the condensation droplets trail down his knuckles…

“...Xukun?”

“Oh, uh, it’s okay, it’s fine, I’m not mad,” Xukun says hurriedly, snapping out of his reverie. He slaps himself inwardly for being so goddamn awkward and obvious. “I actually just got back from a presentation, so I can show you the beta version if you want-”

“I would love that,” Ziyi interrupts, throwing him a relieved smile.

An hour later, Ziyi is yelling at Xukun for messing up his “date” with “Peter,” the café barista comes over to give them their second warning for being too loud, and Xukun is doubling over in laughter at how dumb Ziyi looks swishing his head back and forth with a huge VR device over his eyes.

“Dammit, I can’t believe I only got 68 points on that date, I thought I was good at this,” Ziyi pouts as he takes off the VR device and hands it back to Xukun.

“Well obviously, Peter thinks you need some work,” Xukun teases.

“I hope I earned a better score to someone else, though,” Ziyi comments off-handedly, throwing Xukun off-guard.

Xukun was so confused. What happened to the rude, self-absorbed fuerdai fuck he met a week ago? Dammit, he was supposed to be mad at this boy. He was supposed to put an end to this. He was supposed to be a pretentious fuckboy, not a kind-of-really adorable dork. “... Maybe a 75,” he shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant.

To his surprise, Ziyi laughs. “I’ll take it, it’s passing at least.” His eyes are twinkling, and Xukun’s heart maybe, just maybe, starts going a little bit faster.

“A-anyways, you said you danced? I do too, how come I never see you around?” Xukun quickly changes the topic before his face turns completely red and he exposes his dumb self.

“No way? That’s awesome!” Maybe this wasn’t a good question to ask, because Ziyi beams again and Xukun has to clench his fists to stop his quickening heartbeat. “I probably don’t see you because the B-Boy Club meets at my house in Arcadia, we have a practice room there.”

As a pretty well-off person himself, Xukun really isn’t surprised. His mom has a house in Arcadia too. As a matter of fact, almost all of his rich friends’ moms do. “Ah, so that’s why-”

“You can come visit if you want!” Ziyi blurts out. “I mean, like, practice there, if the practice rooms at school are too crowded…” Ziyi trails off, taking a loud slurp of his coffee.

It’s Xukun’s turn to laugh, and Ziyi’s turn to look up in slight surprise. “Maybe if you earn higher than 90 points next time,” Xukun says while waving for the bill.

“Does that mean… we can meet again?” Ziyi asks hopefully, suddenly sitting up straight.

Xukun doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He doesn’t really know what he’s thinking. His brain is telling him to stop, that he’s moving too fast, that he needs to rethink this, but though he is usually a rational person; this time around, his fluttering heart takes control of his motor skills.

“What about next Friday?” he finds himself saying.  

Ziyi smiles softly and winks. “It’s a date, then,”

Xukun wants to gag at the disgustingly cheesy, completely fuckboy line, but somehow, his heart manages to beat even faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Half and Half is the best boba chain in Southern California, that's the TEA folks (haha)
> 
> \- I don't actually know if Ziyi has an outtie, I did it for the vine sorry
> 
> \- Chapter title from 'That's What I Like' by Bruno Mars!
> 
> \- Follow @yxnjuns for updates, head to @zhangdejun on Curious Cat for any burning questions about the fic hehe


	3. ‘cause the boy with the cold hard cash isn’t always mr. right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This chapter was beta'd and fueled by the amazing @mangguobing (AO3) / @shuibinyue (twt) and @mangostickyrice (AO3) / @ultsyanjun (twt)! Check out their works on AO3 as always <3

**chapter 3 // ‘cause the boy with the cold hard cash isn’t always mr. right**

 

Zhangjing sits in his seat nervously, trying his hardest not to scream in the middle of the dead silent library. He’s meeting Yanjun to go over a Chem assignment, but it feels like he’s about to have an interview for a job at Google. As soon as he’s somewhat successfully convinced himself that he shouldn’t be so nervous to meet someone to go over a problem set, Yanjun sits down across from him with the most beautiful, sparkling smile he’s ever seen. Zhangjing mentally kicks himself over and over for being so whipped for this Chinese fuckboy.

“Hey, have you been here long? Sorry for making you wait,” Yanjun says in a low whisper. Zhangjing barely registers what he actually says.

“Huh? Yeah- I mean, no, it’s fine,” Zhangjing stumbles over his words again.

Yanjun’s smile grows bigger. “Great, let’s get started then.”

After explaining the same reaction set to Yanjun for the fourth time in a row, Zhangjing no longer wants to kiss him; he wants to kill him instead. He wouldn’t call himself the most impatient person on the planet, but this boy was actually driving him nuts.

"For the fourth time, you just have to balance this here,” Zhangjing says carefully while writing in numbers on the sheet. Upon seeing Yanjun’s confused look again that has remained unchanged for the past half hour, Zhangjing sighs loudly.

“No offense, but this is Intro Chem review, how are you this confused?” He whisper-shouted to Yanjun loudly. People turn to look at them, and Zhangjing feels his cheeks flush. “I mean, are you sure you’re supposed to be in this class? Maybe it’s a bit challenging for you.”

Yanjun chuckles. “Dude, if I don’t pass Biochem this semester and graduate next year, my dad is actually going to kill me.”

“Ah, right, the Lin Laboratory conglomerate doesn’t want people to know they have a son who can’t pass Chemistry,” Zhangjing lets his sass slip out before he can stop it. His eyes widen, and he quickly opens his mouth to apologize.

“You’re right about that, this is why I need the smartest Chem major to help me out,” Yanjun throws Zhangjing a wink without missing a beat.

Zhangjing is at a loss for words. “... Did you just… _wink_ at me?” 

“You betcha,” Yanjun sits back and crosses his legs, throwing a small smirk in his direction.

Zhangjing tries really hard not to blush, so his brain decides that the best course of action is to snatch his own problem set worksheet up and shove it into Yanjun’s face. “Here, just take this, scan it, and give it back to me tomorrow in class. I’m done with it anyways.”

“For real? You’re the real homie,” Zhangjing cringes at Yanjun’s use of “homie,” but he watches anyways as Yanjun’s long fingers take the paper away from his face.

“Yeah, it’s fine, just change some of the answers or something, you know the deal,” Zhangjing mumbles while looking down at his hands.

“Of course, I’m not an amateur cheater,” Yanjun says. Zhangjing looks up, and sees Yanjun staring straight at him, again, legs still crossed and back against the chair in that annoyingly attractive stance, lips still pulled up in that goddamn smirk. “Seriously, though, I feel kind of bad, maybe I could buy dinner tonight or something?”

Before Zhangjing can overthink and say something dumb again, his mind jumps into action. In a sudden wind of courage that he didn’t know he had, he throws Yanjun a smile and answers a little shakily, “Of course, you owe me one.”

  
  
  


Zhangjing doesn’t really remember what they ate for dinner. All he remembers is the way Yanjun threw his head back when he laughed at his own dumb Chemistry pun, the way Yanjun likes to shake his leg while he isn’t talking, the way Yanjun’s eyes never breaks away from staring directly into his during conversation.

He was thinking about how much he wanted to poke a finger into Yanjun’s dimples when he suddenly notices that Yanjun has stopped talking.

“Zhangjing?” Yanjun cocks his head to the side in question.

“Huh?” Zhangjing snaps back into reality and feels something soft at the tip of his finger. Looking down, he realizes that he has actually done the Deed; he really went and _poked the side of Yanjun’s fucking face_. It’s surprisingly soft, his dumb brain notes.

Zhangjing snatches his hand back immediately, picks up his spoon, and shovels rice down his throat to quash the bubbling feeling in his stomach. “Oh my god, I’m sorry,” Zhangjing blubbers through a full mouth. “I didn’t mean to, it was just so...”

Yanjun blinks for a few seconds, then looks down, shakes his head, and chuckles. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Zhangjing slowly swallows his mouthful of rice, still unwilling to look Yanjun in the eye. “What does that mean?”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for dimples,” Yanjun says. Zhangjing looks up, mortified and about to defend himself, when he sees the teasing sparkle in Yanjun’s eye.

Zhangjing feels a wave of relief wash over him. “Shut up, you just had some rice on your face.”

"Yeah, right,” Yanjun laughs while poking at his food.

Zhangjing throws a carrot slice in Yanjun’s direction, but it only makes Yanjun laugh harder.

The rice doesn’t stop the bubbles from rising in Zhangjing’s stomach this time, and he just knows that he is absolutely fucked for the rest of the semester.

  
  
  
  
  
  


…Which is exactly what he tells Dinghao and Chaoze when back in their room that evening.

“Guys, don’t you care that your best friend is on the floor possibly suffering from cardiac arrest?” 

“Not particularly,” Chaoze says, stuffing another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “Chuck Bass’s face is honestly more appealing than whatever you’re about to tell us.”

"Yanjun laughed at me and called me smart,” Zhangjing blurts out, diving into Chaoze’s bed between the laptop and the two boys previously engrossed in Gossip Girl.

Dinghao throws a popcorn into Zhangjing’s face. “Chuck was about to kiss Blair! Fuck you,” he spits.

Chaoze sighs and closes his laptop. “Fine, I’ll bite. What happened?”

“So, I gave him my problem set for him to look over and then he treated me to dinner to thank-”

“Hold the fuck up, you gave him your  _problem set_?” Chaoze suddenly sits up. “You don’t even give me your earbuds to listen to our music homework.”

“One time I stole a potato chip and you tackled me to the ground,” Dinghao crosses his arm in indignance.

“Okay so then we had dinner, and I did the most embarrassing thing,” Zhangjing ignores his friends’ useless comments and continues with his story.

"What did you do? Confess your eternal and undying love for him?” Dinghao has stopped fully paying attention at this point, choosing to pick at his cuticles instead.

“Oooh let me guess, you laughed so hard your face contorted again?” Chaoze crosses his arms and leans back against the bed.

Zhangjing recounts the rest of his embarrassing story of him (accidentally) caressing Yanjun’s face, though he leaves out the dimple specifics, because he didn’t want to be planting more ideas into Dinghao and Chaoze’s heads. Not that Zhangjing didn’t trust his friends, but he just knows that Dinghao would spread that shit everywhere. He does _NOT_ have a dimple kink, nope.

After his dramatic recollection, Dinghao and Chaoze look at each other and promptly burst into laughter.

“I can’t believe you fucking did that,” Dinghao guffaws, spilling popcorn all over Chaoze’s bed.

“You win, Zhangjing,” Chaoze clutches his side, grabbing aimlessly to pick up the popcorn and wiping away his tears. "How to pick up a man 101: Touch their fucking face while they're talking." 

"You two are literally the worst,” Zhangjing faceplants into Chaoze’s pillow and groans.

 

 

After they’ve all settled down, Dinghao picks up a pillow to hug and brings his knees to his chest. Zhangjing knows this is Dinghao’s defense stance, a sign that he has something important to say.

“Speaking of embarrassing shit, there’s this kid in my vocal class who’s literally the most embarrassing person I’ve ever met.”

Zhangjing hoists himself up to sit on the bed instead of lying face down on it, happy to take the attention off of him for once. “More embarrassing than when Chaoze salsa-danced on a table in the school cafeteria after day drink-”

“Who is it?” Chaoze interrupts, smothering Zhangjing with another pillow.

“His name is Jeffrey? He literally tripped over air entering class on the first day,” Dinghao cringes at the memory. “And, get this, he sits next to _me_ even though there’s like 30 empty seats left. Then he drops his audition music all over the floor, gives himself a papercut trying to pick them up, and then bumps his head on the chair in front of him.”

Zhangjing whistles. “That’s a pretty detailed recollection of something that happened five days ago for a person who hates memorizing anything except names of China’s top fuerdais.”

“But the worst part is that this guy sings better than me!” Dinghao whines and kicks his feet off the bed. “He’s so fucking good at singing that I almost cried listening to his audition piece, so naturally, he’s my arch-nemesis and I must hate him.”

“Well, here’s the million dollar question: is he gay?” Chaoze asks.

“Fuck if I care,” Dinghao retorts with a huff, picking up a piece of popcorn from the bed to eat.

This time, it’s Zhangjing and Chaoze’s turn to exchange looks.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Cai Xukun didn’t really know what he was expecting when he walked into Zhu Zhengting’s house in Arcadia on a Friday night, but it certainly wasn’t four tall boys chasing and throwing stuffed animals at each other in Zhengting’s foyer, Fan Chengcheng standing on top of the sofa shouting at them, and Zhengting in the kitchen baking cookies. Another extremely long boy was also sitting there, attempting to pick a warm cookie off of Zhengting’s plate.

“What,” Xukun says unintentionally as he takes in the scene around him.

Justin suddenly turns around from pounding Quanzhe’s head with a teddy bear and looks at Xukun. “Oh! Ge, you came,” he says a little breathlessly. “Zhengting-ge, Xukun-ge’s here!” After relaying the news, he turns back to attacking the purple-haired boy. Xukun feels a little bit of pity for him; it’s not really the kid’s fault he has to be friends with Justin.

“Why are you here? I thought Friday nights were reserved for your boy toy,” Zhengting winks. “Things worked out for the better, I see?”

Xukun groans. He’s honestly not surprised that Zhengting knows about his recent developments, as the center of the fuerdai gossip transit line. “Let’s not use inappropriate words in front of kids, Zhengting-ge.”

Although Ziyi had agreed to Xukun’s offer for a date this Friday, the reason why Xukun was here surrounded by weird freshmen and dealing with Zhu Zhengting’s mom-ness instead was because Ziyi had cancelled yesterday night, saying that his father suddenly called him back to China for a “business thing.” Xukun could understand, family duties, if not work, is something that is unavoidable in the way they were brought up. Ziyi did seem pretty apologetic about it, and they made plans to meet the week after.

“I knew you would snatch up that snack!” Xukun is brought back into the reality of his situation with a painful clap on his back. He looks to the right and sees Chengcheng grinning almost maniacally at Xukun.

“I swear to god Chengcheng-”

Justin stops tugging at Xinchun’s hoodie to yell, “Wang Ziyi’s not a snack, he’s a whole five course meal with a cherry on top!”

Xukun is in the middle of wondering how the heck Zhengting deals with the six of them on a daily basis when he suddenly gets pummeled in the face with a pillow. With a scowl, he picks it up and runs towards the hysteria in the middle of the living room. “Huang Minghao, get your flat ass back here!”

 

 

 

Zhengting leans his arms against the kitchen counter, looking from a safe distance at the raucous across the room. He whips his head around at the sound of crunching behind him, only to see Wenjun biting into one of his cookies.

“Bi Wenjun, I told you not to eat these, they’re not for you! I’m baking a batch for you guys in the oven right now.” Zhengting slaps Wenjun’s shoulder, puffing out his cheeks in annoyance.

Wenjun seems unfazed, and looks up at Zhengting after finishing his cookie with lazy eyes. “Who are these for, then? Your cute TA who has a girlfriend?”

At Zhengting’s silence and the red tint on his cheeks, Wenjun scoffs and takes another cookie.

“Shut up, it’s not even confirmed that Guan Xiaotong is dating him,” Zhengting mumbles.

“They were caught on camera kissing in a club a month ago, ge.” Wenjun reminds him. His words, although harsh, are delivered so softly and kindly that Zhengting can’t possibly get mad at him. He hates it when Wenjun is right, but unfortunately, Wenjun is always right. Zhengting sighs and pushes the plate of cooling cookies back towards Wenjun.

“Just eat ‘em all then,” Zhengting mumbles as he turns back to check on his second batch.

“I’m just saying, ge, you have so many more options out there who you’re ignoring because of this one very straight TA with a baby face.”

“Oh yeah? Who? Wenjun, name one person who has shown even the tiniest bit of interest in me since Cai Xukun two years ago.” Zhengting pokes a chopstick in one of the cookies. It’s still a bit doughy. At Wenjun’s silence, he answers his own question.

“See, you can’t name any, can’t you-”

Zhengting turns back triumphantly, thinking that he’s finally caught kindhearted and soft Wenjun lying through his teeth. Instead of looking guilty or avoiding his gaze, though, Wenjun is staring directly at Zhengting, with a half eaten cookie in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face. Zhengting feels a bit uncomfortable under the prolonged stare, yet it somehow doesn’t feel right to look away. After a couple seconds of awkward silence, Zhengting is about to turn back to the oven again when Wenjun finally looks back down at the plate of cookies and starts to speak.

“A shame for Luhan, though. These cookies are really amazing, ge.”

Zhengting sighs again, this time with a smile on his face.

He turns back to the cookies, so what he doesn’t notice is the tall boy excusing himself quietly to the bathroom to splash cold water all over his rapidly burning face.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Zhangjing, having pulled another all-nighter being forced to watch Gossip Girl with Chaoze, really didn’t want to practice on a Sunday afternoon. But, his first vocal exam is in four days, so he forces himself out of his bed, brushes his teeth, doesn’t even bother to brush his hair or change out of his sweats, and trudges like a zombie to the music building and into an empty classroom.

Despite his complaints, singing has always been the thing that Zhangjing loves doing the most. If his family’s income didn’t depend on his successful future as a doctor, he probably wouldn’t be majoring in Chemistry. Chaoze and Dinghao are in the same boat, but the two of them have found their homes in student-run acapella groups. Zhangjing’s never been able to feel comfortable in that crowd; he’s always preferred to express his own emotions through the music he sings himself. Even though this means that he has to settle for taking vocal electives and participating in the occasional Music department recitals, Zhangjing is still grateful that he has the chance to sing here.

Thirty minutes into practice, Zhangjing is finally getting into the groove of his song. Feeling proud of himself, he belts out the high notes, smiling as he sways his body to the slow beat. Finally satisfied with the way he sings the last note, he takes a small break to drink some water when suddenly, he hears a rustling from the doorway.

“Shit, I didn’t know that you sang.” That voice sounds a bit too familiar. Zhangjing squeezes his eyes shut, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, the person behind him will just dematerialize from-

“Was that Crush’s _Beautiful_?” Zhangjing hears footsteps. “That’s my favorite song, how did you know?”

That comment makes Zhangjing turn around. Of course, it’s Yanjun standing in front of him with arms crossed, a smile on his face, and dressed in an infuriatingly attractive light blue button-down. Zhangjing feels incredibly self-conscious in his tattered Beyoncé concert tour t-shirt.

“Who said I was singing for you?” Zhangjing throws back.

“Right, sorry for intruding,” Yanjun actually looks sort of apologetic, arm reaching up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly.

A couple seconds of silence ensues, with Yanjun staring at the ground and Zhangjing trying to study his expression, unable to comprehend why Yanjun was even in the music building in the first place.

Zhangjing’s never been one to handle awkwardness well. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to continue-”

“You sing good!” Yanjun blurts out. “Well, I mean well. You sing well,” Yanjun lifts his head back up to look at Zhangjing directly, and although he still has his signature confident gleam in his eyes, Zhangjing can hear hesitation in the way Yanjun rushes his words. It’s a huge difference from the snarky banter that they have had going for the past few weeks, so Zhangjing’s thoughts are running around in his head trying to figure out what Yanjun is getting at.

“Um, thanks…?” Zhangjing trails off, taken aback by the abrupt compliment and not really knowing what to say. He can feel his cheeks starting to burn up.

“Are you performing this song anywhere?”

“It’s for my vocal exam next week, but otherwise no…. Why?”

“I’m part of the composition club, and I happen to be arranging a new version of this song. Do you think you could perform it for me?” Yanjun shifts his weight onto his other foot nervously.

Zhangjing is even more confused. Yanjun is part of the composition club? Yanjun has a hobby other than buying shoes and going clubbing? Yanjun is-

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just asked because you sounded pretty good, I guess,” Yanjun interrupts Zhangjing’s brain going into overload. When Zhangjing looks at him again, he seems to have regained his cool composure, casually picking his nails. This jerk.

“I mean, I guess, since you asked, yeah, I can do it,” Zhangjing says just as cooly, trying really hard not to blow his cover. “You owe me another one, though.”

“Nah, you’re the one with a dimple fetish, so I think this performance is to make up for all the times you’ve looked-”

“Fetish?? What the fuck, Lin Yanjun, I swear to god if you bring that up ever again I will-” Zhangjing storms over to Lin Yanjun and slaps his shoulder as hard as he can to shut him up.

“Ow! That hurts,” Yanjun whines, clutching his shoulder dramatically.

“It better,” Zhangjing huffs. “Message me the details of the performance. I need to practice but you’ve ruined my vibe, get out.” He points to the door and gives Yanjun the scariest glare he can muster.

It’s evidently not threatening enough, because Yanjun doesn’t break his smile as he puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving.”

Taking a huge sigh of relief as he tries to calm down his emotions again, Zhangjing turns back to his music stand.

“Zhangjing, one more thing,” He hears Yanjun call from the door.

He groans. “What now?”

“Your voice. It's amazing. See you in class.”

When Zhangjing whips his head around at the unexpected compliment, Yanjun is already gone.

  
  
  
  
  


Xukun is sweating. Los Angeles weather is unforgiving in August, and although it was also hot back home, nobody told Xukun that it would be upwards of 42 degrees Celsius here in Southern California. Whoever told him that California weather was mild can go fuck himself.

He and Ziyi had agreed to meet at the outdoors basketball courts, because apparently the both of them not only shared a hobby in dancing, but also the NBA. After a lot complaining from Xukun that he hadn’t played since middle school, Ziyi had finally convinced him to play a one-on-one with an enticing bet: if Xukun wins, Ziyi has to teach him a short b-boy routine. Xukun can only dance modern, thanks to Zhengting’s influence, so b-boying is something he’s always wanted to learn.

The two of them have been texting pretty constantly since their last meeting at the café. Ziyi, over text, uses wannabe hip-hop slang and weird abbreviations, but Xukun finds it sort of foolishly cute, even though personally, he would never do the same. Compared to his first meeting with him, Xukun felt like he had unlocked a new level of Wang Ziyi’s personality, just like in his VR game. It doesn’t help that the man’s smile was extremely endearing. Xukun really wants to see it again.

Xukun looks at the clock. 3:37 PM. They had planned to meet at 3:30. How is it that the boy is so responsive to texts, yet he’s late to every single meeting? One of Xukun’s biggest pet peeves is waiting. Honestly, it’s the reason why his work ethic is so good and he has a startup at age 21, but it’s also the cause of many rifts in his human relationships. Xukun knows this, so he tries to remain patient as he literally burns to a crisp under the hot sun with no shade in sight.

3:50 PM. Where the fuck is Wang Ziyi. Xukun decides that it is now appropriate to send the other party a kind text asking them for their whereabouts.

 

3:51 PM

Cai Xukun: Hey, where are you right now? :)

 

Xukun can’t stand the heat anymore, so he treks back to an academic building and loiters in a classroom, waiting for Ziyi’s response.

 

3:58 PM

Cai Xukun: I’m chilling in the literature building room 102. It’s too hot outside haha

 

It’s at this moment that Xukun hates Wechat for not implementing read receipts. Fuck people’s privacy, crucial knowledge is being lost without this privilege. Xukun vows to himself that if his startup fails, he’s going to get hired at Wechat and become the CEO somehow and decree read receipts a necessity once and for all.

At 4:15, when Xukun was seriously contemplating calling Zhengting, of all people, to ask him for advice, he sees a notification flash on his screen.

 

4:15 PM

Wang Ziyi: Heyyyyyyyy cutieee <3333 whr r YO U?

Wang Ziyi: I miss uuuuuuuu :(((( Come find meeeeeeeeeeeeee

Wang Ziyi: Lets hav som fun ;)))))

 _Wang Ziyi is sharing his location_.

 

Xukun stares at his phone in absolute disbelief. He checks his calendar and scrolls up in his texts, just to make sure the date that he set up with Ziyi was real and not all a dream. Is the boy seriously smashed at a bar right now, in broad daylight? Did the boy seriously booty-call him, again?

 

4:18 PM

Cai Xukun: … Did you forget our basketball plans?

 

4:19 PM

Wang Ziyi: Oh shitt

Wang Ziyi: I forgto, I’m with XG rnnn

Wang Ziyi: Come 2 the bar, I’ll buy som drnks 2 make it pu

Wang Ziyi: I’ll do anytg u wanttttt heh ;)

 

Xukun is so angry. If there’s one thing he hates more than late people, it’s people who don’t show up at all without a warning. And even more so, people who are unapologetic about it. Too many years of his mom not coming back home when she said she would for Xukun to ever forget this knotted feeling of being abandoned in his stomach.

Xukun is also confused. He sits on his desk and stares at his phone, scrolling through past messages. Why does Ziyi seem like a different person every time he interacts with him? He was cold, then he was really forward, then he was kind, then he was open and amicable over text, and now he’s drunk off his ass and back to being a douchey fuckboy. An hour ago, he felt like he had leveled up in his interactions with Wang Ziyi. He felt like he had finally understood him better, not as a fuerdai fuckboy, but as an actual person. But now, it feels like this was the deceptive route, the route that doesn’t lead anywhere, the one that tricks him into dropping back down to level one, forcing him to start the mission all over again. Who is the real Ziyi? Is any of what he’s seen the real Ziyi?

More than anything else, though, Xukun is angry at himself for giving Ziyi the benefit of the doubt and letting himself believe that the boy had any interest in him as a person. Even though he’s now in an air-conditioned room, he can feel his cheeks flare up in the embarrassment of his own thoughts. That café meeting was probably just him trying to get in his pants. Xukun didn’t know what Ziyi wanted from him at first, but now he can confirm that it wasn’t anything serious at all. Ziyi just wanted another boy toy, just like Zhengting had phrased it. Zhengting had told him that Ziyi was a sheltered kid, but he was too optimistic and forgiving, as usual. Perhaps Ziyi is just, at his heart, a spoiled rich brat.

And Xukun should know better than to trust people like his past self.

 

 

 

 

 

**bonus scene**

Dinghao takes a large sip of his mimosa. “I need information on a guy called Jeffrey Dong.”

“Only if you give me the information you promised about Cai Xukun,” Zhengting throws back, putting a slice of pancake into his mouth.

“Fine, I saw him on Friday at the café next to the computer science building with Wang Ziyi,” Dinghao sits back with his arms crossed and pulls up a smirk. “They seemed pretty friendly with each other, friendly enough that the waiter had to tell them to be quiet multiple times.”

Zhengting whistles as he steals a piece of melon off of Dinghao’s plate. “Wow, I’ve heard that Wang Ziyi moves fast, but this is quite the development. Had to stop Xukun from nearly chopping the kid’s head off like a week ago.”

“Alright, now tell me everything you know about Jeffrey already, Zhengting,” Dinghao whines.

Zhengting bats his eyelashes innocently. “Why do you want to know, Lu Dinghao? Has our favorite sugar baby finally fallen in love with a fuerdai dad-”

“What the fuck, Zhu Zhengting, I thought we swore not to talk about this again-”

“Call me ge,” Zhengting slaps Dinghao lightly on the shoulder. “But did I lie, though?”

“Just tell me stuff about Jeffrey, or else I’m cancelling our biweekly brunch gossip sessions,” Dinghao threatens.

“Who’s the one paying for these anyways, you ungrateful brat,” Zhengting scowls but continues to answer Dinghao’s demands. “I don’t know Jeffrey that well, but his family runs a fashion business conglomerate. Roommates and best friends with Wang Ziyi.”

Dinghao scoffs. “Seemed like the type. He showed up to the first day of vocal class wearing a bright red Puma tracksuit.”

“Oh, but he’s hella good at singing. Heard he went on singing survival show back home or something and actually did sort of well? But his dad was against him pursuing a music career so he’s here studying business instead,” Zhengting shrugs, dumping more syrup on his already soaked pancakes.

“A rich kid, a good son, and a talented singer,” Dinghao angrily stabs his eggs benedict. “It’s unfair that he exists.”

Zhengting laughs incredulously, bits of pancake spewing all over the table.

“Gross, Zhu Zhengting.”

“Lu Dinghao calling someone other than himself perfect? What has this world come to?”

Dinghao downs the rest of his mimosa and points his empty glass in Zhengting’s face. “No one can be better than me at singing, except for maybe Zhangjing.” He clenches his fist. “This rich spoiled brat Jeffrey needs to be taken care of.”

Zhengting doesn’t reply, simply smiling down at his pancakes. He makes a mental note to keep an eye and an ear out for what could be the new hottest fuerdai topic at school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Sorry this took so long! But it's a longer chapter, and I included a bonus scene, so I hope you enjoy it >3<  
> \- Chapter title from Madonna's Material Girl  
> \- What is the ship name for Zhengting and Wenjun?? This needs to be decided ASAP  
> \- As always, follow @yxnjuns for updates, or stop by @zhangdejun on Curious Cat! <3


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